


i loved you with the good and the careless in me

by darlingjustdont



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Heist, M/M, Movie: Ocean's Eleven, but like. modernized, it's kind of just a general au like it's not specifically ocean's eleven, writing queen's thief modern aus is very difficult omg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 15:40:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17707016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingjustdont/pseuds/darlingjustdont
Summary: “i want to pull a con.”eddis checks her watch. “you’ve been out for three days.”“are you in or not?”an ocean's eleven au where eugenides is the leader of a ragtag group of criminals and attolia is the cop they don't want to cross.





	i loved you with the good and the careless in me

**Author's Note:**

> hellooooooo i've been writing this since october? and it's finally done! 
> 
> full disclaimer: i know nothing about the police, gambling, or medicine which are all pretty crucial to this plot. sorry. also it's unbeta'd so if it doesn't make sense, i apologize. mistakes are mine, queen's thief is not. 
> 
> title is from conrad by bed howard, very fitting and appropriate. 
> 
> enjoy xx

they’d met in the darkness. it’s where he’d met many of his friends and acquaintances, in dimly lit bars or shadowy corners. 

but this time is different. 

she had been standing on the street under the stars, a dress as dark as the night sky cascading down her body, and he’d been running as fast as he could with her gun trained on his back and earrings tucked safely in her pocket. 

 

he should feel like a free man when he steps out of prison, should be glad to breathe in the fresh air and have the world at his fingertips again. he’s all too aware of the conditions of his release, of parole wrapping around his legs like a rope and chaining him back to the prison. 

spitting on the ground, he starts walking towards the smudge on the horizon that marks a town. 

 

nothing much has changed about las vegas in the four years he’s been locked away. sure, new stores and hotels have popped up to jostle against each other, competing for people to gamble away their savings, but that’s always been there. nothing has changed about it fundamentally; it’s still lit up with neon and smells like greasy food and dashed hopes and money, always money. 

he breathes shallowly until he gets used to the scent, tugs on his wrinkled shirt as he approaches the entrance of the strip club. 

it’s crowded and thrumming with people, fizzing with a sort of raucous energy that makes him jittery, but he ignores the feelings. picking his way towards the back, he pushes through doors until the sounds of the club fade behind him and he stumbles into the room he’s looking for. 

there’s an empty seat, so he settles in and waits. 

 

she pauses when she comes in the door, hesitates for half a second when she clocks him there, but smooths over it without anyone else noticing. he knows her too well not to notice, knows just exactly where she picked up that bit of training. 

“who’s the newcomer?” she asks the table, shuffling the cards in her hands. the c-list celebrities sitting around the table shuffle nervously, looking at each other. 

“we thought--” one of them starts and she grins. sliding into the last available seat, she begins to methodically deal out cards. 

“you do that now?” she says on a laugh. the celebrities chuckle and reach for their hands, frowning at the lack of luck on their side. 

he watches her, watches the grin that’s quirking the side of her mouth upwards, and shifts his gaze to his own cards when she winks.

 

he leaves the back room with a few hundred dollars lining his pockets. it’s a welcome home gift, he supposes, one that matters less than the way they’d fallen into sync once again, even after four years. 

he lights a cigarette under the streetlight and waits. 

“you’re rusty, cousin,” she says, stepping out next to him so their elbows bump together. “out of practice.” 

“poker gets boring when you don’t have any money to bet with.” 

she nods at his cigarette. “that’s a new habit.” 

“won it in a game of blackjack.” he drops it and grinds it into the ground with his heel before turning to face her. the lights throw weird shadows over her face, making her crooked nose look more crooked and accentuating her cheekbones in a way that’s not flattering. “you look older.” 

she tips her head to the side and grins again. 

“good to see you too, eugenides.” 

 

“i want to pull a con.” 

eddis checks her watch. “you’ve been out for three days.” 

“are you in or not?” 

“who’s the mark?” 

eugenides doesn’t look at her, focuses on unwrapping his burger, and purses his lips. he can feel eddis frowning in his general direction but it takes a moment for him to screw his courage to the sticking place. 

“have you heard of the sounis corporation?” 

“no,” she says instantly, pushing back from the table. “no, i’m out.” 

“you haven’t even heard--”

“listen, gen. i’ve been with you through a lot of dumb shit. jumped when i probably should’ve held you back, but i’ve always jumped, okay? robbing casinos is one thing, but this is a bloody _company_.” 

“how’s a company any different from a casino? that doesn’t make sense, a casino _is_ a company.” 

“because there’s still a chance of luck in a casino. plausible deniability. you won the thirty million dollars because you’re an incredibly lucky bastard, but there’s none of that cushion with corporations, gen.” 

“since when have any of our stunts been things we can explain away by _luck_?” 

“it’s the principle of the thing,” eddis growls, jamming a fry in her mouth. “stop your scheming now. i know that’s an impossible task, but at least try.” 

he drags a fingernail through the condensation that’s gathered on the side of his cup, takes a long sip before speaking again. “don’t you at least want to know the plan?” 

“ _no_ ,” she insists but leans forward in her chair. he’d knew she’d be interested. she could never help herself from at least hearing.

“the sounis corporation is one of the richest this side of the rocky mountains. fourth richest, if _forbes_ is to be trusted.” 

“generally they are.” 

“it’s headed by dimitry sounis. bastard named it after himself.” 

“as people often do.’ 

“sounis has his fingers in a lot of nasty pots, most of them tracing back to shady dealings.” 

eddis pops another fry into her mouth. “how shady?” 

“whatever you’re thinking, and more,” he says and takes a bite out of his burger. she makes a face, shaking her head. 

“go on.” 

“every year, the sounis corporation holds an extravagant gala under the guise of charity. it’s mostly to shmooze shareholders, flaunt their wealth, and line their own pockets.” 

“you said it was a charity event.” 

“i told you sounis has sticky fingers.” 

“you implied it, maybe, but you didn’t outright say it.” 

“the charity he’s raising money for is his own and he takes a large share,” he answers and she rolls her eyes. 

“how generous.” not looking at him, she busies herself with consolidating leftover waste into an empty container. “what are you thinking?” 

“they’re auctioning off the hephastian jewels this year at the gala, in honor of the company’s twentieth year. they’re saying the pieces separately could bring in eight million dollars apiece, at least. together, the full set? forty million. easy.” 

“forty million? for _jewelry_?” 

“two earrings, a necklace, a bracelet, and a crown,” eugenides says, ticking off his fingers. “legend says they were once vatican pieces that were stolen and resold to royalty.” 

“how are they being auctioned at this gala, if they once belonged to the papacy and royalty?” eddis asks, narrowing her eyes. “how are they not locked up in some museum vault in europe?” 

“first of all, because that’s a _legend,_ not reality. it adds to the price, though, because a story always drives up demand. second of all, because sounis is a conniving weasel who probably stole them himself, though there’s not a lot of proof of that. so he gets to sell them under the guise of being a philanthropist even though very little of that will actually be seen by people who need it.” 

eddis scrubs at her hair with a hand, pulling at the black curls. “how do you know all of this?” 

“contrary to popular belief, i do read newspapers. even in prison,” he says airily, settling back in his chair. 

she gives him a look. “gen.” 

“sounis’ former personal assistant was my cellmate.” 

“former?” 

“turns out that when you’re privy to everything in sounis’ personal life, he doesn’t take well to you quitting.” 

eddis whistles. “so what are you planning? you’re going to steal it, right?” 

“mmhm. we’ll sneak into the gala, cause a distraction, and sneak out with no one the wiser. simple.” 

“simple. ridiculous amounts of security, i’d reckon?” 

“and a guest list that rivals the met in terms of exclusivity.” 

she whistles again. “what’s your plan? that’s going to require at least a two if by sea, a double blind side, a calamity jane, a miss congeniality, maybe an alaskan proposal, and a practical magic.” 

“i know.” 

“and you’re still going to do it? that’s not just madness, eugenides. that’s suicide.” 

“maybe by myself, but i’ll have a team?” 

“two people does not a team make, not for a heist this size.” 

he sips the rest of his drink and smirks at her, taking his sweet time now that he knows she’s interested. “not two, eddis. ten.” 

“ _ten?!_ ” 

“ten.” 

 

the magus is the first recruited, of course, after eddis. he’s the one with the money, the one with the connections, and it wouldn’t feel right to leave him out of something like this. 

then comes sophos, eager to help and a genius with explosives. he jumps at the chance to help and eugenides isn’t sure if it’s because of him or because of the glances sophos sends eddis when she’s not looking. 

boagus and aulus join as their general muscle because they’re family and good at it and have empty schedules. aulus tells gen that they’ve nothing to do but argue otherwise and gen laughs, pointing out that a job won’t stop their bickering. 

pol joins and he’s five, their inside man who’s probably there more because of his duty to sophops’ family than anything else. eugenides doesn’t mind loyalty to other people, as long as those other people are on his side. besides, pol’s good and he’s got connections high up that’ll be useful. 

they need someone who knows security, knows police, so eugenides reluctantly calls up the man who falls neatly into that description. costis is a bit of a wild card, but eugenides saved his life once and costis’ stupid sense of chivalry won’t let him out of that debt. gen likes him, even though he won’t admit it to anyone. 

they’re still missing someone for inventions and construction, so costis brings along his boyfriend. kamet is a wiry man, with shrewd eyes that makes gen nervous, but he’s got a reputation that eddis knows and trusts, so he’s onboard too. 

aris is their hacker, a squirrelly, excited manchild who can find anything on the computer in a couple of seconds. 

and then, finally, nine and ten are eddis and eugenides himself-- the coordinator and the mastermind-- to round out their little team. 

eugenides surveys the gathered group in the magus’ front room and nods to himself, satisfied. they’re ragtag and messy, but they’ll do. 

 

they have the winter to plan out everything, down the last detail. eddis and gen spend long, long nights with their heads bent over guest lists and blueprints and finance documents. they’re trying to cram everything; eugenides wants to know everything about sounis, down to the very last detail, and he wants to recall it in a second’s notice. 

it’s been drilled into him since birth, since the man he called grandfather picked him up and offered him five thousand dollars to crawl through a window: you need to be able to improvise and you can only improvise if you know all the moving parts. 

eddis chews on a pen and jumps when she remembers something, scribbles it down on scrap paper. she’s lost in her own world, thinking through every detail and fine tuning them until the whole picture is cohesive.

“how many are we going to have on the list?” she asks. eugenides stretches out his legs, crosses them at the ankle, and sighs. 

“me and you. the cousins, maybe. pol for sure, and then costis. oh, perhaps the magus?” 

“it’s his table. why wouldn’t he be there?” 

“it’s the magus. he’ll front the money but he’d rather keep his hands clean.” 

eddis hums and taps the pen on the table. “won’t our presence at his table implicate him anyways?” 

“i don’t think we’ll be there long enough to actually _eat._ also, not if no one knows it’s us.” 

“sneaky,” she tells him and he grins at her, flipping a little piece of paper in her direction. “oh shit, is that another con we have to include in? do i have to add in a lake house now?” 

“two lake houses, if we’re being technical. me, you.” 

eddis groans, scrambling for her list of things to do. “gen, that would’ve been good to know _weeks_ ago. not now.”

“it’s just fake identities--” 

“that kamet has to magically pull into existence on top of everything else! what about the cousins? will they need a lake house?” 

“nah, they can just bluff their way through.” 

“and we can’t?” 

“not if we want our nameplates to match.” 

“shit,” she tells him emphatically, clicking her pen for emphasis. 

“i thought you knew about it already.”

“it’s not in the notes!” 

“i thought it would be assumed!” he argues, half laughing but staying out of the way of her hands. she’s known to punch, occasionally. 

“fuck you.” 

“do you want to tell kamet or should i?” 

she waves her hand. “you do it. i’m busy working in two more wrinkles into my already very wrinkled bedspread.” 

he stands, dipping down to kiss the top of her head. “you’re strange, but i’ll leave you to it.” 

“good, go bother someone else.” 

he laughs again, and goes to do exactly that. 

 

“the magus,” aris says interestedly, draped over the arm of the sofa. “why don’t you have a proper name?” 

the magus scowls and rolls his eyes, a pipe clamped between his teeth. “i have a proper name.” 

“then what is it?”

“i’m not telling you.” 

“why not?” argues aris and the magus rolls his eyes again. “c’mon, we’re on the same team.” 

“i’m not telling you because you’re an insolent scamp who doesn’t need to know that information. i’m the magus and that’s what you can call me.” 

“why ‘magus’ though?” 

“cos he’s magic at cons, aris,” sophos says crossly, pushing aris’ feet off the sofa so he can sit down too. “stop being annoying.” 

“then why not the magician instead of magus?” 

the magus levels a glare at him, one that gen has been on the receiving end of too many times to count. eugenides presses his lips together when aris goes slightly pale. 

“because ‘the magician’ is fucking _stupid_ , you dolt,” the magus answer as he leaves the room in a flurry of silk and velvet. 

aris jerks his head, conceding the point, but doesn’t quit. “what about eddis?” 

“what about her?” sophos asks, with the air of someone who is very close to losing his patience. he looks over at gen and they share a look. 

“eddis isn’t a girl’s name. it’s not a name, period.” 

“it’s her last name,” eugenides answers and rifles through the papers in front of him. one page catches on his hand and he stifles a curse when it leaves a papercut across his palm. he sticks the cut in his mouth and soothes the pain with his tongue on instinct. 

“what about her first name?”

“do you ever shut up?” sophos asks him, kicking him in the shin. “or are you just a fucking idiot all the time?” 

“i’m just curious! she’s one of our fearless leaders and i’d like to know what her name is.”

“she’s allowed her secrets,” says sophos. “and she prefers going by eddis, so fuck off.”

aris looks to eugenides, who shrugs.

“everyone here’s fucking weird,” he grumbles and pushes himself off the couch. he wanders away into the kitchen, no doubt looking for someone else to bother. sophos shifts on the sofa.

“do you know eddis’ name?” he asks and eugenides smirks, quirking an eyebrow in sophos’ direction. 

“why do you want to know?” sophos blushes, just a bit, and eugenides chuckles. “i do, but i’m not going to tell you. you’ll have to ask her yourself.”

“fuck you, gen,” sophos sighs. eugenides snorts. 

“everyone keeps saying that lately. i’m starting to wonder why.”

“it’s because you’re a smartass,” pol advises. eugenides twists towards him to glare in outrage. 

“you haven’t even been here for the conversation. you don’t know the context!”

“you’re always a smartass,” says pol dryly, “no matter the context.”

sophos sputters out a laugh and pol gives him a tiny smile, like a proud father. eugenides bites back his own smile and fixes an offended look on his face.

“i’m the leader of this team and i demand to be shown respect,” he complains. 

“leader in name only,” teases pol and eugendies balls up a spare piece of paper to throw in his direction. 

 

every con has its wrinkle and eugenides has yet to find theirs. it’s airtight, their plan, and he should feel pleased it’s so good. instead, he paces around the room at night, stepping in and out of the moonlight as he runs circles around every detail, trying to find the weak places where things will fall through. 

he goes to visit costis on break, slips in beside him at the cafe at the bottom of sounis corporation. 

“the megaron?” eugenides asks quietly, tapping on the name on the napkin. costis’ mouth screws up, half in annoyance and half in amusement. 

“a dumb name for a dumb building,” he says. 

“anything i should know?” 

costis worries at his lip, a nervous habit, and scans the half-empty room. eugenides follows his gaze, flicking his eyes over the tired patrons who are absorbed in their cups of coffee. none of them glance up, not even the woman in the corner who looks too tense to be a businesswoman. eugenides studies her for a second, waits for her to turn the page in her book before he looks away. 

“they’ve hired extra security for the gala.” 

“good. pol will need it.” 

“no, not good. i’m not sure who exactly they’ve hired but i’ve heard whispers. whoever it is, they’re good. a fbi agent, i think.” 

“a specialist? why would sounis need an agent?” costis hesitates. eugenides gives him a look. “costis.” 

“someone tipped sounis off that there’s a rat in his midst. i’m not sure who, or why, but he’s tightened security.” 

“how?” 

“more guards at the event. the agents he’s hired. i think he’s revamping the cameras too.” 

eugenides raises an eyebrow. “is that going to be a problem for kamet?” 

costis smiles in spite of himself. “nothing is a problem for kamet. it’s everything else that will make things difficult.” 

it looks like eugenides has found his wrinkle. he drains the rest of his cup and lines it up neatly on the saucer, pushing the whole thing closer to the centre of the table. 

“leave that to me, costis. meeting tonight at the house. don’t miss it.” 

eugenides is standing before costis finishes nodding, swinging his jacket around his shoulders and stepping towards the door. 

the woman at the other end of the cafe is watching him now, back as straight as a yardstick and a curious look in her grey eyes. he takes her in for a second, notes her black hair and beautiful face, and then looks away. 

 

he gives them all a talking to, a stern one. none of them could rat him out, none of them would chance it, but they can be careless. they’re reminded to watch what they’re saying, where they say it, how loud their voice is. eugenides eyes the cousins at that last point and they pull faces back. 

“just, be careful,” eddis says at the end of his speech. she sighs and rakes her hands through her hair. “we don’t want to get locked up before we have any fun.” 

costis catches them after the meeting, when everyone’s slipping away. sophos lingers and eugenides watches as he gets stuck near eddis, like he’s tied to her gravity. 

“i know who the agent is,” costis says, grim, and eugenides is pulled back to more pressing matters. “it’s attolia.” 

“attolia? as in _irene_ attolia?” eddis asks. costis nods. “shit. _shit._ ” 

“who’s attolia?” sophos asks, swivelling his head between the three. eddis’ mouth is set in a straight line, distaste running through her body. 

“she’s a ruthless and deadly agent, and will not stop at anything to take someone down.” 

“she’s a badass,” costis says and eugenides is surprised at the admiration in his voice. “she came in for a training when i was a cadet and _holy_ shit.” 

“that bad?” sophos asks mildly. eddis scowls. 

“she’s fucking amazing. i’d never want to be on her bad side.” 

“i hate to break it to you, ormentiedes, but that will be exactly what happens if this gets fucked up.” eddis tells him, sticking a finger in his face. “so don’t fuck it up.” 

costis nods and takes his leave, meeting up with kamet who was hovering by the door. eddis waits until they both leave the room to speak.

“having attolia here is not good, gen. like, call-this-whole-thing-off not good.” 

“what? you’re joking,” protests sophos. eugenides can empathize; stopping now, when they’re months deep and thousands of dollars in seems like an impossibility, a caving in. but better a caving in than a total destruction, he supposes. 

“i’m not,” eddis says, shaking her head. “i know about irene and she’s brutal. straight as an arrow as well; we won’t be able to bribe her. if she catches wind of what we’re doing, it’s over. especially considering--” 

eugendies cuts her off with a look, one that makes sophos swallow his follow-up questions, and runs a finger over his mouth. 

“we’ll just have to make sure she doesn’t catch wind of it, then.” 

“eugenides,” eddis warns. “it’s not that easy.” 

he leans forward to press a kiss to her hairline. “i’m going to go do some recon.” 

“oh, _fuck_ no--” 

he slips out the door before she can finish her rebuke, but her sigh follows him down the hallway, wrapping around him like a blanket. 

 

attolia is neat. her apartment is nice but impersonally decorated. there are no pictures on the walls, just some art and photography that hints at wealth but not personality. she wears outfits in neutral colours, and keeps her jewelry minimal. 

eugenides pauses at the earrings. they’re at a contrast to the rest of the apartment, the rest of the picture of attolia her belongings painted. they’re bright and cheery, sitting like weights at her earlobe. he marvels at them and touches the pair of rubies with his fingers. they come away dusty. 

“you don’t wear them,” he says to the room and there’s a sigh in response. 

“i don’t wear things given to me by thieves,” attolia says after a moment and eugenides swivels on his heel to face her. she doesn’t look directly at him, fixes her gaze somewhere over his shoulder instead. 

“is that what you think of me? that i’m a thief?” 

“is that not what you are?” 

he dips his chin in concession, smoothing his hand over his pants and cocking her head in his direction. “you look beautiful.” 

“eugenides,” she snaps, voice cracking like a whip. he flinches in spite of himself. 

“yes?” 

“get out of my house before i shoot you. and don’t come back.” 

“i thought you’d be happy to see me.” 

“you thought wrong.” 

he chuckles. “not very kind of you.” 

“i’m not known for my kindness.” 

“you’ll shoot me?” he clarifies. she looks at him then, arching an eyebrow and meeting his gaze. it’s cold, unmoving, and a shiver slides its way down his spine. 

“without hesitation.” 

he inclines his head again, rolling up onto the balls of his feet to pad as quietly out of the room as he came. 

“oh, eugenides?” he pauses with his back straight. “tell your little friends to be more subtle, or i will have them arrested.” 

he lifts a hand to acknowledge the threat and leaves before she can notice the tremor of fear around his body. 

 

their con staggered along, surging forward as everything fell into place. people knew their place and did their jobs as the date of the gala marched ever closer. eugenides kept strange hours, working when he was needed and slipping away when he was not. he caught eddis watching him with concern on so many occasions. 

“is there something on my face?” he asked once when he was fed up with the staring. she shook her head and tugged her lip into her mouth, worrying it with her teeth. 

“you’re different.” 

eugenides tips back his chair, balancing himself with a foot and looking down his nose at eddis. “prison tends to change people.” 

“not what i meant.” 

“then what did you mean?” 

“you’re scared of attolia.” 

“yes,” he answers and his eyes slip closed. “i am.” 

“why?” 

“you know why.”

“yeah, but you’re… you,” eddis argues. he snorts. “you laughed when they sentenced you.”

“so?” 

“so why are you more scared of _her_ than anything else?” 

he opens his eyes and the legs of his chair make a sound as they land on the floor. “i can’t explain it, eddis. there’s something about her that terrifies me and i can’t explain it. that’s all.” 

“okay,” she says. “okay.” 

“it’s far from okay. it’s fucking miserable.” 

“don’t be proud, gen.” 

“i’m not being proud. it’s madness trying to run a con around her when i’m terrified of the woman. that’s the miserable part.” 

she looks at him for a long, long moment, until his insides begin to squirm, but doesn’t say anything. she just stares, daring him to look away first. 

eventually, he does. 

 

the day of the gala dawns bright and blue, perfect for their needs. eugenides gathers them all in the living room before they all slouch away to their assignments, sweeps his eyes over the motley crew. 

sophos is grinning, twisting a piece of wire around in his fingers as he talks to eddis. aulus and boagus are hopping from foot to foot, swapping insults almost too quickly for anyone else to follow. aris watches them, half in amusement and half in amazement, and gets a few jabs in occasionally. kamet is frowning, smoothing a hand over costis’ blazer and straightening the collar, and costis has a vaguely fond look as he patiently lets kamet fuss. the magus and pol are leaning towards each other, heads together and talking about god knows what. taxes, perhaps. cigars. whatever distinguished men talk about. 

eugenides leans against the wall and watches them, watches the tiny family he’s assembled, and admits to himself that he’d be happy now even if they called the whole thing off. 

he offers it as an option. the magus glares daggers as gen potentially wastes all his money, but gen can’t be bothered by that. everyone needs to be in this fully, no hesitations, no ratting anyone out. 

no one takes the bait. they all remain silent and watch eugenides like he watched them, waiting for someone to break. 

“i’m not going to give a motivational speech,” he says quietly. “nor am i going to go over the plan one more time. i just want to say thank you for helping me do this. whether we walk away with millions or in handcuffs, i’m thankful.” 

they all acknowledge his speech with awkward shuffles and tilts of the head. eugenides dips his chin and they all take it as their leave, drifting away to their first positions. 

the game is on. 

 

“comms check,” kamet announces over the headpieces, his voice cutting through the static crackling in eugenides’ ear. “aris?” 

“check.” 

“pol.” 

“hmm.” 

“magus.” 

“yeah.” 

“aulus, boargus, aris, eddis, sophos?” 

they all chorus their assent. 

“costis?” 

“here, babe.” 

“eugenides?” 

“loud and clear, dear,” he teases and kamet blows out a long sigh, costis echoing it. 

“one day i’ll punch you in the face again,” mutters costis and eugendies laughs at that, tipping his head back against the headrest. eddis gives him a look out of the corner of her eye. 

“a story for another time?” 

“yes,” he agrees. “when we’re out of these stuffy clothes and have a lot of wine.” he raises his voice a little, speaks into the mic discreetly attached to his lapel. “is everyone in position?” 

another chorus of assent, some more clear than others, and eugenides nods, satisfied. 

“your tie’s crooked,” eddis says, reaching over to adjust the knot. he lets her fidget, knowing it settles her down even though he’s much better at ties and fashion in general. sophos meets his eye in the rearview mirror and eugenides winks. sophos grins. 

“you ready?” he asks, easy. gen thinks about the plan he’s spent months perfecting, nudging all the tiny cogs into place until it runs seamlessly. if it all goes to plan, if it all works like it’s supposed to, no one should be the wiser. 

“ready.” 

 

the ballroom is exquisite, decked out in finery from top to bottom. the people attending match, dressed in outrageously luxurious fashion. there are diamonds everywhere, so many that it nearly makes eugenides’ head hurt from the sparkle, but none so beautiful as the set in the middle of the room.

“wow,” eddis breathes, reattaching her bracelet around her wrist. they had to take off all metal and any metal to go through the detectors; even the bobby pins in eddis’ hair had sparked the alarm. “they’re beautiful.” 

beautiful isn’t quite the right word. they’re stunning, almost otherworldly, and eugenides finds his feet pointed in their direction. he shouldn’t go near them, shouldn’t be seen in their proximity, but his fingers are itching to feel them. 

“drink?” he offers instead, steering eddis towards a waiter with champagne. she accepts a flute and he does too, sipping it as his eyes scan the room. 

his gaze catches on sophos across the room. he’s good at pretending, good at shrugging off his discomfort, but eugenides can read it in the tenseness of his shoulders. he’s uneasy in a way that he hasn’t been for a while and gen doesn’t wonder why he turned to a life of crime instead of this. 

sounis is near sophos, stocky and looming. his presence draws everyone’s eye, though not in a good way. he reeks of power and it makes eugenides wrinkle his nose in distaste. 

“sophos!” sounis roars and clamps a hand down on sophos’ shoulder. sophos stiffens. “my useless nephew, back again, eh?” 

“hello uncle,” sophos replies, loud enough for gen and eddis to hear across the room. 

“i haven’t seen you in a while.” 

“i’ve been busy.” 

sounis’ face is pink and watery; he’s drunk already. “is that stupidly expensive university pushing you hard then? fuck knows i pay enough.” 

“it’s great.” sophos’ voice is flat, emotionless, and he shifts away. 

“he’s my heir, you know,” sounis says conspiratorially to those around him. everyone knows sounis is childless. his many wives hadn’t produced many offspring, and the two that were born left the family long ago. everyone also knew he was grooming sophos to take over one day. 

eugenides thinks of sophos trapped in sounis’ fortress disguised as an office, crushing people into the dust to make mountains more money, and snorts into his glass. sophos would never, could never. 

“what are you doing here?” someone hisses and he looks over. 

“excuse me?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. eddis shifts at his elbow but doesn’t say anything. 

“don’t play dumb with me, eugenides,” she snaps, glaring at him so fiercely it makes his knees shake. 

“that’s not my name.” 

she blinks. “of course it is.” 

“you must have me mixed up with someone else. my name’s eric.” 

“eric,” she says tonelessly. he nods. 

“eric matthews. and this is debbie ocean.” eddis waves a hand in greeting, still silent. “do i know you?” 

attolia looks around, takes note of the people nearby. there’s a woman close enough to eavesdrop but attolia stares her down until she moves away, uncomfortable. 

“do not make me arrest you for lying to a police officer,” she threatens, cool, and adjusts her gloves. “i do not want to make a scene, but i will. what are you doing here?” 

“attending a gala,” he answers and she levels a look at him. 

“eugendies.” 

“eric. am i not allowed to enjoy a party?” 

“you weren’t invited.” 

eugenides raises an eyebrow again. “you don’t know that.” 

“i certainly do.” 

“sophos invited us,” he says and watches the skin around her mouth tighten. “he wanted the company. well, debbie’s company in particular.” 

eddis elbows him in the side, enough to make him grunt out loud. attolia surveys them both, suspicion still plain on her face. 

“debbie?” 

“that’s right,” eddis answers. “debbie ocean.” 

attolia looks back at gen. “you never mentioned a debbie.” 

“maybe she’s a new acquaintance.” 

a scowl passes over attolia’s face so quickly eugenides almost thinks he imagined it. a blank expression takes its place, carefully neutral. 

“nice to meet you, debbie.” 

“you too,” eddis murmurs. “irene, right?” 

attolia nods once, lifting a flute from a passing waiter. her lipstick leaves bright red prints on the side and they look like bloodstains in the low light. gen swallows hard. 

for a brief second, again, he thinks about calling the whole con off. putting down his champagne, walking out the door, and just disappearing. they have time; they could disappear if they had to. the magus wouldn’t be happy, but gen could make him understand. they don’t need to do this, they can leave. 

and then eddis drops her glass, and all hell breaks loose. 

 

not literally. that comes later, the hell, but everything rolls into motion as eddis’ delicate flute shatters against the floor. 

“shit,” she gasps, flailing wildly for a napkin. “shit, it’s all over me, all over my dress.” 

“it’s alright,” attolia says, not kindly but not unkindly either. she reaches for her bag and pulls out a napkin so eddis can blot it against her dress. 

“careful, there’s glass,” gen warns as eddis teeters forward, her bare toes dangerously close to the sharp shards in her sandals. eddis takes a step back. “here, you go wash up and i’ll get someone to clean this.” 

eddis nods and walks away. attolia watches after her, a frown on her face, and for a second, eugenides is sure she’ll follow. 

their attention is caught by another crash, louder this time, on the other side of the room. it’s immediately followed by lots of swearing and both attolia and gen whip around to see the source of the commotion. 

“you dropped the entire bottle of wine,” sophos says with barely concealed rage. “what the _fuck_.” 

“sorry, man, didn’t mean to. butterfingers, you know--” aulus starts and is soon drowned out by boagus. 

“you _idiot_ , i thought you said you had experience!” 

“i did, i just tripped--” 

“you dropped an entire bottle of wine! that doesn’t sound like experience--” 

“it was obviously an accident--” 

“my shoes are ruined,” sophos moans. “absolutely ruined, and these _pants_ \--” 

“i swear to god, roger, if i find that you lied on your resume, i will fire you right so fast your ass won’t even be singed.” 

“what the hell does that mean?” 

“it means you’ll be out of a job.” 

“for fuck’s sake, will one of you clean this up?” says sophos, loud enough to be a yell, but the two aren’t paying attention. they’re worked up in anger, snapping arguments too fast to keep up with, until boagus puts his hands on aulus’ chest and _shoves._ aulus, taken aback by the motion, pinwheels for a second before crashing straight into the display case full of jewels. 

everyone freezes for a moment as the alarm starts to screech, staring at the man slumped against forty million dollars of jewelry and a case that has not shattered. sounis breaks the spell by bellowing in outrage, words getting swallowed up by the siren but the intent clear. his face is red bordering on purple, and gen is almost worried he’ll have a heart attack right there and then. a heart attack would be a nasty wrinkle in their plans. 

there’s another shout and security rushes in, frantic men in white shirts who surround the display case. someone yanks aulus away and boagus soon follows, no doubt whisked away to some secluded room for questioning. 

“sir,” says a guard to sounis, looking frazzled. “sir, we’re taking care of it. you don’t need to yell.” 

pol’s at the case, running his hands over the sides. he’s got a concentrated look on his face, like he’s searching for something. gen chews on his cheek. 

there’s a few breathless moments while all the guests wait to hear what the prognosis is, whether or not they’ll be allowed to stay in the presence of the sparkling diamonds or if they’ll be removed. finally, pol drops his hands. 

“they’re fine,” he says and it’s clear enough to be heard across the room. “nothing was damaged or moved, just a bit of a shock to the system.” 

“are you sure?” sounis demands and pol takes a step towards him. 

“i’m sure. you can have someone else examine them, if you’d rather--” 

“no, no. i trust you,” says sounis and waves a hand. 

eugenides carefully does not look at anybody else. he takes a sip of his champagne and lets his eyes slide to attolia. she’s watching the goings-on with a keen expression, mouth twisting into a frown. he can practically see her brain working, whirring under her crown of dark hair. he doesn’t move. 

her chin twists towards him ever so slightly and then jerks back to sounis and pol. understanding clicks in her eyes and she takes a single step towards them, her hand reaching out. 

the room goes black, pitch dark so that he can’t see a thing around him. a few women scream, startled by the sudden blindness, and a hand clamps down on his arm. 

“what are you doing, eugenides?” attolia hisses and her grip is tight around his wrist. gen lets out a shaky breath, letting his fear show. 

“i’m not doing anything.”

“bullshit.”

“i swear, irene. i have nothing to do with this.”

the lights flicker back on and there’s a moment of stillness, of hushed anticipation as the party-goers try to reorient.

“eugenides,” attolia says again, voice pitched low, and he doesn’t try to correct her because someone screams. 

“the necklace,” the anonymous voice screeches, her voice plucking against everyone’s nerves. “the jewelry, it’s gone!”

attolia’s fingers get tighter, a vice on his wrist he couldn’t break if he tried. she whirls on him, skirts and hair swinging and eyes sparkling with fury. 

“you,” she spits. 

“me?”

“you did this.”

“i did not,” he says easily, swallowing most of his terror and using the rest of it to masquerade as confusion. “how could i?”

“i don’t know. but you did.”

“i was here the entire time.”

her eyes narrow. “i won’t let you get away with this.”

“i haven’t done anything,” he protests again but it’s useless. she’s turned her attention back up to the front, where sounis is roaring and pol is shouting and everyone is caught in between flinching away from the noise and inspecting the empty displays themselves. 

“arrest them,” sounis bellows, jabbing his fingers at guests at random. “arrest them _now_.”

pol bends to examine the case, running a hand over his buzzed hair, and then straightens. he pulls out a phone and speaks in short, clipped sentences. eugenides can see a muscle twitching in his jaw from here. 

attolia strides forward and takes him with her, the room clearing a way for her as she marches and he stumbles behind. 

“special agent irene attolia,” she says sharply to sounis, who is currently the colour of an eggplant. “sir, i’m going to have to ask—”

“who are you?” he barks. she twitches, almost imperceptible except gen is watching her like a hawk. 

“special agent attolia. i’m the one assigned to your case.”

“my jewels have been _stolen.”_

“i’m aware of that. we’ll do our best to contain the situation; they can’t have gone far. we need to lock down the building so the thief can’t escape.” her fingers get marginally tighter and eugenides bites down on a hiss. 

“we’re already in the process of locking down,” pol says, stepping into their little circle. he doesn’t look at gen. “the police are on their way, should be here momentarily.”

a strange look passes over attolia’s face for a fraction of a second. “already?”

“they were on standby. we were worried something might happen.”

she closes her mouth but there’s something in her posture gen doesn’t like, a shrewdness to her shoulders that he recognizes. she knows something, or is starting to know something. 

sounis shouts something, too loud and garbled to make much sense, and it shakes everyone out their daze. 

“because you have forty million dollars in diamonds sitting out,” pol answers, as calmly as he can. “of course we were worried something would happen.”

the police come in then, decked out in full gear, and impressive. sounis growls at their entrance and attolia goes up to them, dropping eugenides’ hand at long last. her effect on the men is incredible; they all snap to attention as soon as she breaks out from the crowd. she consults with the leader for a minute. 

the leader steps out and raises his hands to the crowd, placating. 

“attention, all: we are going to do this as quickly and efficiently as possible. if you comply, there should be no trouble.”

gen moves back through the groups of chattering people, fluid until he reaches the wall. attolia is still talking with the police, sounis is still red in the face, and sophos is slinking begins him. 

gen leans against the wall and watches sophos slip his hand into his pocket, a movement so casual no one would realize it’s happening unless they were watching close. there’s a flash of something shiny and then sophos removes his hand.

“nephew,” sounis yells and sophos flinches. “come _here.”_

he goes over to his uncle, reluctantly standing by the officer, who looks stressed, and pol, equally as stressed. 

sounis makes introductions and sophos hesitantly shakes the hand of the policeman, flinches when his uncle’s palm comes down heavy on his shoulder. 

he’s seen enough. the policemen are starting to spread through the area, talking quietly to party-goers and rifling through their belongings. eugenides lifts himself off the wall and makes his way to the exit, slipping behind a distracted cop and pads down an empty hallway. 

his hands are curling around the door handle when a voice cracks down the corridor, freezing him in place. 

“eugenides,” attolia says sharply. “stop right there.”

he turns. she’s silhouetted against the party behind her and her gun is out, pointed at the floor. he knows if he takes a step it’ll be at his chest in an instant. 

“why are you leaving?”

“i needed some fresh air,” he replies, as lightly as he can. 

“in the middle of a robbery?” she snorts and tightens her grip on the gun. “suspicious.”

he slides his foot back. “i didn’t steal anything.”

“i don’t believe you.” 

“you never did,” he says, letting bitterness seep into his tone. “that was always the problem, wasn’t it?” 

“you don’t _lie_ to people you say you _love_ , eugenides.”

“i never lied about loving you,” he tells her and she scowls, her hands flexing around the handle. “but i’m sorry if you thought i did.” 

“you lied about everything else. what was i supposed to think?” 

“i did not lie--” 

“you’re lying right now,” she snaps. “god, fuck you. you’re a thief and a liar and truly, _fuck you._ ”

she’s up in his face, nearly toe to toe, and he can feel the heat of her anger against his skin. there’s a shiver that runs down his spine and he doesn’t know what to make of it. she freezes for a second, like she realised just how close they were, and something in her face flickers. he swears she looks at his mouth. 

“if i kiss you right now, will you shoot me?” he whispers. 

“yes.” 

“you don’t sound too sure of that.” 

“i’m never going to kiss you again.” 

“you don’t sound too sure of that either,” he tells her and she moves closer. her mouth brushes against against his. “what if i kiss you?” 

“eugenides—”

he cuts her off, done with the fighting and done with everything else. she responds immediately, her free hand jumping to his hair and holding him there. he shivers again and he knows she felt it, wonders if she can also feel the terror that’s still in him whenever she’s close. 

the kiss doesn’t last long, just the space of a few heartbeats, before she pulls away so quickly it makes his head spin. 

her lipstick is smudged against her face, and probably against his, and her hair is falling down over her neck. 

“i should slap you for that,” she says, her tone a strange mix of angry and resigned. he evaluates her mildly and scrubs a hand across his face. his fist comes away red. 

“you said you would shoot me.” 

“don’t tempt me.” he laughs, a breathless thing, and leans against the door again. his hands find the handle and he’s pressing it down when the gun clicks again. “i said, don’t tempt me.” 

“i’m not _doing_ \--” 

“you’re trying to leave. i see you going.” 

“am i not allowed to get air after that kiss.” 

her glare is sharp, piercing. he sighs. 

“it’s a robbery. no one can leave, especially not _you._ ”

“i didn’t steal anything.”

“you have something to do with it. i know you do. you can’t lie to me, eugenides.”

someone moves behind attolia, stepping up to her shoulder. gen swallows at the sight of the police officer. 

“eugenides?” the man says, eyeing him. “eugenides eddis?”

“the very one,” attolia responds, voice flat. the man goes for his gun, raising it to point directly at gen. gen’s back hits the door. 

“eugenides eddis, you are under arrest for violating the terms of your parole.” 

gen’s grabbed and his front is shoved into the wall before he can move, a grunt escaping his lips. 

“hot,” kamet says approvingly over the mic. eugenides doesn’t deign to answer that. 

“too rough, costis,” he mutters instead as costis shoves him again and doesn’t listen. 

“breaking parole?” attolia asks and costis nods, voice all official now that he was talking to a superior. 

“correct. he missed his check-in last night. his parole officer put out a warrant, due to his… background.”

if eugenides turns his head, he can see attolia glaring. he doesn’t turn his head. 

“unfortunate,” says attolia. “i thought prison changed him. once a criminal, always a criminal, i suppose.”

gen winces. “it was an accident?”

“maybe the first time, but three in a row?” costis clicks his tongue and settles the familiar weight of handcuffs on his wrists. “not likely. i’ll take care of this, captain. you attend to the party.”

“keep an eye on him,” attolia orders. “he’s a bastard.”

her heels click against the floor as she strides away, leaving the two of them alone once more. 

“that was pointed,” costis mutters as gen twists his wrists, breaking out of the unlocked cuffs with ease. 

“we might have a history,” he admits and rolls his shoulders. “do you have everything?”

“mmhm, here.” costis passes over the toolkit and gen pockets the handcuffs, just in case. “you’re alright?”

“fine. this isn’t my first heist.”

“yes, but you did get caught the last time you did this,” teases costis and eugenides glares at him, half heartedly making the sign of the cross. just in case. 

“don’t jinx this.”

costis gives a lazy salute and slips out the door, chuckling all the way. gen counts to four and follows after, turning left where costis would’ve turned right, and embedding himself deeper into the fortress. 

sounis is nothing if not paranoid, and any ordinary thief would’ve gotten tripped up by the security embedded into every step. but eugenides is not an ordinary thief. 

he finds the panel in the wall and slides it open, shimmying up the small space. it’s more difficult than usual in his dress shoes and tux, but not impossible, not for eugenides. 

he practically grew up in a vent, grew up skinny and agile so he could crawl around in buildings without being noticed. he climbs until he feels a vent going off to the left and swings into it. It’s faster going while it’s horizontal, and soon he’s near his destination. 

there’s very little to mark his exit; the panels give just the tiniest bit and gen digs his fingernails into the tiny crack. after a few seconds, the panel lifts up and he sets it carefully to the side. 

the room below is dark, hushed. gen pokes his head out to take a look around, trying to figure out where the security measure are. one misstep and this whole thing goes up in flames. 

“the room’s dead,” aris says, amused, and eugenides swears, banging his elbow on the vent. 

“you could’ve told me sooner.”

“it’s more fun to watch you struggle,” eddis says as gen drops out of the ceiling, landing lightly on his feet. aris is at the computer already, tapping away at the keyboard with quick strokes. she’s leaning against the desk with her arms crossed and whole body alert. “what happened to your hair?” 

“hmm?” he reaches up and winces, raking the mess on top of his head back to some semblance of order. eddis smirks. 

“how long have you been here?” he asks and prays there’s not anymore lipstick on his face. 

“eight minutes. the cameras were more difficult than we expected.”

“what about the alarms?”

“child’s play,” kamet says smugly over the mic. “two more of those devices and they were useless.”

“kamet, if you ever decide to use your inventions for evil, we’re all fucked.”

“evil, like the police?”

“exactly,” gen says and taps on the desk. “how much longer?”

“ten minutes.”

“aris,” eddis says warningly and aris’ fingers pick up speed. 

“you can rush data transfer, eddis,” aris hisses back. eugenides’ fingers tap faster. 

“gen, did the jewelry—“

“everything went according to plan,” he answers. “even with attolia there.”

“she looked nice tonight.”

he winces. “now’s not exactly the time.”

“just saying,” she mutters, the shadow of a smirk on her face, and then aris crows. 

“got it,” he says and his hands are yanking the flash drive out of the computer, wiping over the keyboard so that every trace of them is gone. “let’s go.”

“kamet?” gen says and he can hear clicking over the in-ears. 

“all clear,” kamet says and eugenides nods at the other two. quietly, they run out the door, throwing one last look over their shoulder to make sure nothing was disturbed. the door swings behind them, locks with a click, and they are racing down the hallways through the maze of a megaron to the outside. kamet keeps pace with them, disabling the cameras and security as they go and putting it back into place as soon as they’re gone. it’s fast enough that eugenides hopes no one notices, no one marks the flicker of static that passes over the screens. 

they’re in the stairwell, tripping down the stairs and so close to freedom gen can nearly taste it, when the wrinkle in their plan appears. 

“stop right there,” attolia says, appearing above them. she has a gun in her hand that’s steady as a rock, no wavering. her hair is still loose, tangled around her shoulders. eugenides freezes. “i _knew_ you were a part of this.”

gen nudges towards the door. aris is already out, blocked from attolia’s view and able to run to freedom. 

“a part of what?”

“eugenides,” eddis says lowly, inching that much farther away. gen ignores her. 

attolia’s face is blank but eugenides knows her, can see the storm clouds gathering behind her eyes. this is going to be shitty, no matter what. 

“don’t act dumb with me,” she says sharply. “you owe me that.”

“i didn’t steal the jewelry,” he tells her. eddis’ fingers brush lightly against his back, a warning. 

“then why are you running?”

he gives her the half-truth. “because i’m not going back to prison.”

“i’m not letting you get away with this. not this time.”

eddis’ breath cuts off abruptly. “not this time? what did you do, gen?”

“shut up, eddis.”

it’s not quiet enough. attolia’s eyes widen the tiniest bit, and she shifts her grip on the gun. 

“eddis?”

“my cousin,” gen answers after a moment and eddis snarls under her breath. “my innocent cousin.”

attolia snorts. “i know enough about your family to know she’s probably not innocent.”

“i’m not going to prison again,” he repeats.

“shouldn’t have become a thief, then,” she answers and levels the gun at his shoulder. the next few seconds blur past in a couple of heartbeats, too streaky and disjointed for eugenides to make much sense of later. 

eddis shouts something and gen pushes her towards the door. there’s a loud sound that cracks through the air and eddis shouts again before blinding pain radiates up gen’s arm. attolia takes another determined step, but gen’s being pulled out the door and into the bright, bright light, howling against the hurt crystallizing in his hand. a gun booms again and the door slams and there’s only a slowly-softening blackness for gen to fall into. 

 

he wakes to a stinging in his right hand, an aching, curling pain that radiates up his arm and hooks into his chest. it’s all encompassing, this pain, and he flexes his fingers to try to make it stop. 

his fingers don’t move. 

he jerks his arm in surprise and his eyes fly open, pain whiting out his vision for a second. he blinks and the white fuzzes, darkens the tiniest bit until he realizes he’s staring up at a ceiling. there’s a beeping sound that’s incessant, beating against his head until it feels like it’s burrowing into his brain. he lifts his hand to rub at his eyes and freezes when it comes into view. 

his arm is long, sinewy and strong in a way that’s not new. what’s different is the way it stops at his wrist, abruptly, like his fingers were never there. 

“i’m sorry,” eddis says from beside him, voice cracked and rough. eugenides turns his head to look at her. she’s hunched in a chair, her hair standing on edge because she’s run her fingers through it so much, and her eyes are ringed by dark circles. 

“what happened?” gen croaks and it scrapes over his throat like sandpaper. she winces. 

“she shot you,” she says flatly. “in the hand. they tried to save it but there was too much damage. it wasn’t… a clean hit somehow.”

“i don’t remember.”

“you got clipped in the head. knocked you out.”

he blinks as pain lances up his temple again. his wrist knocks against his head and that hurts too, takes his breath away with how much it hurts. he bites back a scream as he arches his back, feet skidding across the scratchy hospital sheets. eddis scrabbles for a button, babbling words he can’t bear to hear. he writhes until something drips into his veins.

it’s morphine, some rational part of his brain thinks, but he’s too far gone to care about rationality. he curls up on his side and tucks his arm against his chest, tears sliding down his cheeks. 

 

everything else went according to plan, eddis tells him. costis smuggled out the jewels, aris dove for the car, everyone packed in and safe. 

“it would’ve been the perfect heist,” she said wistfully, “had attolia…”

she trails off and eugenides shifts his arm closer to his body, tucks it under the sheet. 

“what about—”

eddis reaches under her shirt and yanks out a piece of string. there’s a flash drive on the end. 

“it’s safe.”

“have you done anything yet?”

“no,” she says shortly. “not without you.”

eugenides leans back against the starchy pillows, blinking up at the ceiling. “we should throw it away.”

eddis jerks her head up. “what?”

“the thing that’s around your neck. throw it in the garbage.”

“eugenides—”

“i don’t want it anymore.”

he can feel eddis’ eyes on him, can feel the pity embedded there, and it makes his skin itch. her voice, when she speaks, is soft, gentle. 

“you lost your hand for this, gen.”

“you don’t think i _know_ that,” he explodes, close to a shout. she flinches. “it wasn’t worth it, helen! none of this was worth _this.”_ he holds up his arm, his terrible arm that ends in a stump, bandanged in clean, white cloth. he snatches it back as soon as he can, burying it out of sight. “this whole damn thing cost me my _life_ and it’s not worth it. throw the fucking thing away.”

“no,” she says and he turns his head away from her. “no, i won’t just because you’re throwing a fit, eugenides eddis.”

“it’s not a fit,” he snarls and she stands up, coming around the bed to lean over him. 

“it _is_. ten people risked their lives for this flash drive and we aren’t tossing it in the fucking trash just because you’re upset.” she softens her tone a tiny bit, easing away. “you have every right to be angry, eugenides. of course you do. but i will not let you do something you regret in a moment of self-pity.”

“it’s not self-pity.”

“this is going to help people. i’ll keep it safe until we’re ready to do something with it.”

“whatever. i don’t care,” he says through gritted teeth. it’s almost true. 

the nurse sweeps into the room for his regular checkup, monitoring his vitals and looking at the clipboard at the end of his bed. eddis crosses over to the window and he sinks back into his bed. 

“you got a little excited there for a second, didn’t you?” she says and gen makes a vaguely assuming noise. he waits until she leaves the room to talk again. 

“we’re not in new york, are we?”

eddis’ back stiffens. “no, we’re not.”

“then where?”

“magnus has a house in chicago.”

“ _chicago_?!” eugenides says, sitting up. “you brought me to fucking _chicago_?”

“it was the only option,” she tells him resignedly. “attolia told her partner she had shot you and he had all hospitals on alert for gunshot wounds within minutes.”

“attolia’s partner?”

“yeah, special agent nahuseresh. he’s a nasty piece of work. costis hates him.”

“are we fugitives then?” he asks, weary. eddis’ mouth slides up into a sly grin, the first real smile he’s seen her give since he woke up in the hospital. 

“not exactly. aris can be dangerous if he wants to be”

“what did he do?”

“costis gave him access to the police database. he had our warrants wiped in seconds. we still checked you in under a fake name. just in case.”

he eyes her, notes the mischievous smile still on her face. “what’s my name?”

“gennifer edwards.”

“helen, no.”

“gennifer, yes,” she parrots back. “it’s the only name we could think of that was a possible option for gen. i’m sure they’ve heard worse.”

“did you tell them it was a family name?”

“of course,” she says. “named after your great-uncle on your mother’s side, in fact.”

“god,” he says. “gennifer edwards in a hotel in chicago.”

“yep.”

“without a hand,” he says sourly, and she flinches again. 

“gen…”

he stills for a second, something stirring in the back of his mind. “how long was it to chicago?”

“twelve hours,” she says, a little miserably. “by car.”

“i don’t remember it.”

“you were knocked out for a while, and then you were in a lot of pain. we gave you sleeping pills.”

“you don’t lose your hand from gunshot wounds,” he whispers. “you don’t lose your hand unless you wait too long.”

“gen,” eddis says again but he shakes his head. 

“how long is too long?” 

it takes her a moment to answer. he’s trembling, not quite with rage but with _something_ , his heartbeat a dull thud in his ears. 

“three hours. they said we were probably late by three hours.”

“fucking—”

“but they don’t know! they can’t tell you for sure! it could’ve been a lost cause a few minutes after you were shot, and this was the best option—”

“the best option? i lost my hand, helen, how the _hell_ is that the best option?”

“the only option, then.”

“how many hospitals did we pass on our way here? how many?” 

“don’t you think that sounis would’ve killed you if we were any closer? the magus has connections here, ways to keep you _safe.”_

“sounis? who said anything about sounis?”

“think about it, gen! he knows attolia shot someone at the party, he knows nahuseresh is looking for a gunshot wound to the hand, he probably knows he’s looking for you because he’s got nahuseresh in his damn pocket. here, though. here’s far enough out of his reach that you’re okay.”

“so you picked me losing a hand over going to prison.”

“no, eugenides. i picked you losing a hand over you being killed. it seems like a fair enough trade to me.”

“it wasn’t your decision to make.”

“i don’t care,” she snaps, reaching up to mess with her hair. “i wasn’t going to lose you. not again, not for good.”

he fists his hand in the sheet and squeezes his eyes against the tears that have sprung up there. she waits a moment and then smooths her hand on his blanket. 

“get well soon. the team is anxious to see you.”

he grunts and feels her lips brush against his forehead, light as a feather. it does nothing to stop the tears. 

 

the pain doesn’t ever really go away. it fades into an ache, a persistent pain that’s still there but it’s manageable. he can talk around it, sometimes think around it, but it never leaves. 

he’s discharged from the hospital with a pocketful of painkillers and an appointment for physical therapy in a few days. it makes his stomach twist, that slip of paper, and he shoves it hastily into his pocket. his left pocket. 

eddis comes to sign him out, help him maneuver to the car. but it’s costis in the driver’s seat, kamet beside him, and their smiles are almost genuine. 

“hiya boss,” costis calls, leaning out the window. he’s picked up a chicago drawl, just a little bit, and gen idly wonders if he’s gone back to see his family. 

“this uber service sucks,” eugenides says as he slides in the backseat. “zero stars.”

costis laughs and some of the tension leeches from his shoulders. “what makes you say that? you’ve barely been in the car a few seconds.”

“bringing your boyfriend is unprofessional.”

kamet shifts enough in his seat so gen can clearly see his eyes roll. “if anything, i should boost costis’ score.”

“sure,” says eugenides. “point five stars.”

“dick,” costis says lightly but he’s laughing and eugenides is laughing and for one second, gen can pretend he’s whole again. 

 

the team cycles through the house. they weren’t all there during the time eugenides was in the hospital, scattering for a few weeks until everything settles down. but now they drift back and come say hello, one by one. 

“what happened to your job?” gen asks costis idly. “won’t they be suspicious if you’re gone?” 

“nah, i had this vacation scheduled for a while,” costis replies. “it was time.” 

“and kamet?” 

“i can work from anywhere,” says kamet without looking up from a computer. “i am unconstrained by physical location.” 

“just wifi connection,” costis says and kamet grunts. 

“what is it you actually _do_?” sophos asks. he’s sprawled out on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn on his belly. gen’s not exactly sure where it came from. kamet just gives him a scathing look and types, his fingers clicking rapidly over the keyboard. 

sophos frowns. “what did i say?”

costis just shakes his head so sophos shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth, unbothered. eugenides snatches a kernel. 

“where’s everyone else?”

“eddis is in her room,” says costis. gen rolls his eyes. 

“no, i mean--” 

“pol is at work, aris is… somewhere, boagus and aulus went back to their families for a bit.” 

“the magus?” 

“he’s negotiating a business deal.” 

“but this is his house?” 

“one of,” sophos mutters. “he left us here. said this deal was urgent.” 

“and this con isn’t?” 

sophos shrugs, shoves another handful in his mouth. “we’ve waited this long.” 

“thought you said the con was over,” eddis says from somewhere behind eugenides. he jumps, only slightly, and cranes his neck to look at her. 

“it’s not over until it’s over.” 

“and you said it was over,” she replies. he can see the flash of silver chain at her collar, and he scowls. “didn’t you tell me to throw this in the garbage?” 

“eddis.” 

“you told her _what_?” costis says loudly, pushing himself up so he can glower at gen. “after all that and you want her to throw it away?” 

“costis--” 

“i didn’t throw it away, so calm down,” eddis interjects and comes to perch on the arm of the sofa. “we’re going to release it, soon as everyone’s here.” 

costis’ eyes have gone keen in a way eugenides doesn’t like, shrewd. gen doesn’t know why and that bothers him too. “everyone?” 

eddis gives him an odd look. “yeah, the team.” 

“the team,” costis says with a nod. “gotcha.” 

sophos tosses a few pieces of popcorn at him. “stop being weird, dude.” costis kicks him in the ankle and it soon devolves into a petty argument, bickering like children. gen tips his nose in the air and pinches costis when his fist gets too close. 

 

it takes a week but soon the team is there, assembled around the table with eddis at the head. eugenides is reluctantly sprawled in the seat to her right, his feet propped slung over the arm of the chair and his eyes turned up to the ceiling. he fiddles with whatever’s in his pocket. 

eddis waits a beat for him to say something when the shuffles have died down, when everyone’s situated, but he ignores her. 

“alright then. welcome back everyone.” 

“hello _hel--_ ” aris starts and gets cut off unexpectedly when boagus almost kicks his chair over. “hey!” 

boagus ignores him, sits back with a small smile and gestures for her to continue. 

“it’s been a while since we’ve all been together, for reasons both necessary but unexpected--” everyone’s gaze swivels to gen and he drops his hand so they can’t see the stump. “--but now it’s time.” 

“for the payout?” aulus asks hopefully. 

“no, not yet. we have to find a buyer first. well, we have a buyer but we have to finish the deal. the magus is working on that.” the magus bends his head in acknowledgement. “i’m talking about this.” 

she yanks on the chain until the flash drive pulls out of her shirt and dangles in front of them. everyone looks skeptical. 

“...what is it?” sophos asks, dubious, after a moment. 

“information,” says eddis as eugenides says, “a gift.” 

“which one is it?” says aris. eddis looks at eugenides to continue. 

“both. it’s information about sounis, enough to bring him down. and his empire.” 

everyone’s gazes swivel to sophos now, who stares back impassively. “why do you think i joined the team? for fun?” 

pol nods to himself, like it answered a question. eugenides runs his finger over the back of the chair, and then continues. “when i was in prison, i shared a cell with a man named hamiathes. he was the personal assistant for sounis, before sounis did away with him. he told me that sounis was defrauding people, siphoning money away from the charities and putting it in his personal pocket. better yet, he told me where to find all the information. so we did.” 

the flash drive swings on eddis’ fingers, so inconspicuous but magnetic at the same time. 

“gen wanted to throw it away,” eddis says quietly. gen scowls. “he wanted me to get rid of it, said it wasn’t worth it.” 

“great listener you are,” he mumbles.

“you’re not the boss of me,” she shoots back and he rolls his eyes. “but we’ll put it up to a vote. you all helped, in some way, in getting it. so we’ll decide _as a team_ what to do.” 

“what are our options,” pol asks from the other side of the table, leaning forward and pressing his fingers together. 

“toss it away,” she says. “or, we could leak it to the press. we’ve got connections at a few major publications who would be… interested in this information. or we can give it to the authorities directly.” 

pol frowns and glances at sophos beside him, frowns deeper. eddis turns to aris. 

“aris?”

“keep.” 

boagus? aulus?

“keep,” they say together. 

“costis.” 

“keep.” 

“kamet.” 

“keep.” 

“magus?” 

“keep.” 

“sophos?” 

“keep,” he says with no hesitation. pol flinches, just slightly. 

“sophos--” he whispers but sophos doesn’t react.

“keep,” repeats sophos. “leak it to the press, hand it over to the fbi. destroy him, i don’t care.” 

eddis nods. “pol?” 

“throw away,” he answers after a long, long pause. eddis nods again. 

“eugenides?” 

“you already know what i’m going to say,” he says sourly, dropping his feet back to the ground with a thump. “and i’m outnumbered, so what does it matter?” 

“it matters because you’re our leader,” eddis says and it’s far too gentle for gen’s liking.

“destroy it,” he snarls. “snap it in half and set it on fire. i don’t care. the damn thing isn’t worth it.”

he gets to his feet in a hurry, so quickly it nearly tips his chair over. he’s almost to the door when sophos speaks. 

“not worth it? not worth what?” his voice is sharp, loud in the overbearing silence of the room. eugenides is pretty certain everyone else is holding their breath. “you lost your hand, and that’s… that’s terrible, of course it is. no one’s saying it’s not. but not worth it, gen?” 

eugenides could leave. he could take two steps out of the door and be down the hallway in a few seconds, away from sophos’ voice. but something in him won’t go, won’t escape, so sophos keeps talking. 

“there are people whose lives are being destroyed by sounis. people whose lives could be salvaged by what’s on that drive. and you just want to snap it? let sounis continue to run rampant in the world when you can stop it?” 

“sophos,” pol starts, quietly, but sophos is done. 

“fine,” eugenides grinds out. “fine. do whatever. i don’t care.” 

“so, so, so,” costis mumbles under his breath. eddis ignores him. 

“then it’s settled. we’ll figure out the best way to get this information to the authorities.” 

“you could just hand it over to costis and he can take care of it,” says aris and there’s a thud as he’s punched. “what? he’s the authorities.” 

“not my division,” says costis. 

gen tunes everything out and slips through the door, doesn’t slam it behind him like he thinks about doing. the house is big and it doesn’t take long for him to find a hiding place, somewhere he won’t be disturbed. it’s in the tiny library, in a corner blocked by shelves and with nothing but a dusty chair as comfort. it’ll do for now. 

 

sophos finds him later, when the sun’s sliding down the wall and painting everything golden. 

“wasn’t expecting it to be you,” gen says when sophos pops his head around the corner. “eddis, or maybe costis.” 

sophos shrugs. “everyone else wants to give you space.” 

“and you don’t?” 

“i think this afternoon has been enough space,” he says blankly and gen sighs. “you’ll just get bitter if you stew for too long.” 

“like a cup of tea?” 

“exactly,” sophos answers, leaning his hip against the shelf so he’s blocking the easiest exit. not the only one, but the one that’s easiest. “what happened to you?” 

eugenides holds up his arm as answer, the one with the stump. “does that answer it for you?” 

“no.” 

“how am i supposed to do anything with _this_?” 

“you’re eugenides eddis.” 

“and?” 

“you’re the best con artist this side of the atlantic. in the whole world, maybe.” 

“i can’t steal things with one hand, sophos,” eugenides says softly. “i can’t con them either. they’ll remember me.” 

“i thought being remembered is what you wanted.”

gen laughs, just a little bit. “don’t play therapist on me now, sophos.” 

sophos holds up his hands. “it’s time for dinner. i was sent to fetch you.” 

“and the truth comes out. i don’t think i want any dinner right now.” 

“you do. you’ll get grumpy later if you don’t eat. besides, you’re looking too thin from the hospital.” 

“you sound like my grandmother.” 

sophos laughs, holding out a hand for eugenides to pull himself up with. “eugenides, you’re too skinny. we need to get some meat on you and fatten you up a little, eh?” 

“it’s uncanny,” gen comments wryly. “one would think you also had a greek grandmother.” 

“and far too many aunts. i could pinch your cheek if you’d like?” 

“i think i’m fine.” 

“you can still be the best con artist this side of the atlantic. or the other side, if that’s more your style.” 

eugenides stops in place, crossing his arms over his chest. “sophos.” 

“i’m just saying. you can do anything you want, gen. anything.” 

“i only have one hand.” 

sophos shrugs. “that will just make it more impressive.” 

“this is the worst pep talk i’ve ever been given.” 

“or is it the best?”

“worst.” 

“we’re not going to let you drown in self pity. you’d never forgive us if we let you do that. we’re also not going to let you throw away something you worked hard on.” 

eugenides scoffs. “eddis would never let me throw that flash drive away.” 

“yeah, but she’d much rather finish it with you.” 

“the con _is_ finished. we’re out of sounis’ party and safe. it’s over.” 

“now, gen,” sophos says cheerfully. “you know better than i do that the con is never over, and certainly not before we get rid of all the evidence.” 

“please stop using my own teaching against me.” 

“you didn’t teach me that.” 

“i already told eddis she can do what she wants with the drive. you don’t need to convince me of anything; i’m not going to steal it from her and throw it down the toilet.” 

he had thought about that for a few seconds but the disappointment wouldn’t be worth the satisfaction. sophos shakes his head. 

“c’mon, oh fearless leader. there’s dinner to be eaten.” 

eugenides goes with a minimal amount of grumbling, sitting himself in a chair by the corner and watching the people around him. he tucks his hand into his hoodie and, just for a second, pretends everything is alright. 

 

it’s dumb what he does, he knows that. it’s dumb but chicago won’t work for what he wants to do, what he need to do. he finds the magus’ stash of burner cash and buys a ticket to las vegas as the sun is slipping over the horizon. 

he picks a place at random and slips into the back room, praying there’s an open spot at the tables. there is and he gets dealt into the next round, a low stack of tokens in front of him. it’s weird playing cards with one hand, awkward, but eddis had left a deck in the hospital so he’s not dropping them everywhere. 

“what happened?” the guy to the left of him asks, pointedly looking at the end of gen’s arm. gen blinks slowly, staring hard at the diamond pattern in front of him. 

“i cheated at cards.” 

the man shifts in his seat, leaning away just slightly. “really?” 

“no,” eugenides says. “call.” he has to set down his hand to nudge the tokens into place at the center. the dealer nods, the game goes on. 

“how _did_ you lose it?” 

“a warning from the mafia.” 

“bro.” the man shifts again. “c’mon.” 

“why do you want to know?”

he shrugs and crosses his arms over his chest. “i’ve got a morbid curiosity about these kinds of things.” 

“some would call it impolite,” eugenides says lightly as the man across the table folds with a grimace. the dealer’s head is ducked but he’s listening too, gen can tell. “i stole millions of dollars worth of jewels from someone and he shot my hand off.” 

“man, stop playing,” the guy says as eugenides pushes his tokens out into the circle. he looks at his hand and mumbles a curse under his breath, scowling. “fold.” 

the dealer folds as well and gen lets out a long, long sigh that feels like it comes from his toes. leaning forward to pick up all his pieces, he drops them into his pocket. “thanks for the game, boys.”

“you’re leaving?” the insistent man asks and gen gets to his feet. 

“i’m needed at home. the wife will have my head if i’m not back by two.” 

“it’s not that late, just one more game?” 

“nah, man,” says gen and the pauses at the door. “oh, and next time? leave the badges at home when you gamble.” 

he tosses the shiny police badge onto the table to stunned silence, ducking away before all hell breaks loose. he cashes his tokens at the desk and stuffs the money in his pocket without counting it, escaping outside to lean against the building. it’s not cool, but it’s coolish against his hot skin. tipping his head back against the brick, he lifts his chin up to the sky and breathes. 

“wife?” 

“mmhm,” gen says without opening his eyes. “and two kids.” 

the person shifts closer and gen catches a whiff of spice. “funny, the file didn’t mention any kids.” 

“they’re not technically mine,” he answers and straightens, looking at the tall person in front of him. it’s a man, vaguely familiar, with a beard and hair a little long to be tidy. “do i know you?” 

“probably not. i work for the fbi.” 

“then why are you talking to me?” gen asks and slumps back against the wall again. he fumbles with the cigarette carton and pulls out one, the first in a long, long time. the idea of prison does that to him. “i haven’t done anything wrong.” 

“haven’t you?” the man’s tone is low, dangerous. 

“not recently.” 

“how’d you lose your hand?” 

“you should teach your partner in there how to be more subtle about these things when he’s undercover.” 

“he’s not my partner.” 

eugenides studies him for a minute and sighs again. “no, i suppose he’s not. it’s agent nahuseresh, right?” 

the man smiles and his teeth don’t glint in the moonlight but it’s a close kind of thing. “at your service.” 

“why are you talking to me?”

“where were you four months ago, on the evening of august fourteenth?” 

gen squints at him. “four months ago? not sure.” 

“you sure? no big events, no parties, nothing like that?” 

“i’ll have to ask my wife.” 

“you don’t have a wife, eugenides.” 

gen doesn’t argue with that one. “are you going to arrest me or not?” 

“ _should_ iarrest you?” 

“i’m not in the mood to play games, agent, so unless you have a reason for this, i think i’ll be going--” 

“not so fast, eddis,” nahuseresh says, catching his sleeve as he goes by. “i’m taking you in for questioning.” 

“do i have a choice?” 

nahuseresh raises his eyebrows. “no, not without me arresting you.” 

gen blows out a stream of smoke to the sky, watching it twist in the air. “that’s not all you’ll do to me if i run, is it?” 

“perceptive,” he purrs and it makes eugenides want to grind his teeth together, makes him want to punch something. “some people are very, very keen to get their hands on you.” 

“sounis.” 

“and his associates, yes.” 

“in that case,” eugenides says, putting the cigarette to his mouth. there’s a rowdy group of men down the sidewalk and he watches them idly. “i think i’d rather stay here.” 

“we already established that you don’t have a choice.” 

“oh, there’s always a choice. it’s just choosing the one that’s easiest to live with, and i don’t think i’ll live much longer if i get in the car with you. but then again, being a fugitive isn’t a fun idea either.”

“decisions, decisions.” 

eugenides breathes in, holds the smoke in his lungs for a long moment before letting it go. “can i finish my cigarette first?” 

“no,” nahuseresh replies so gen drops the half-finished cigarette on the ground. he grinds it out with his foot and looks up, grimacing at the pair of handcuffs produced. 

“are you seriously going to put those on me?” 

“yeah.”

“...how?” eugenides asks and waves his hand-less arm around. “they’ll just slip off. plus, it’s not good for the healing process. did you think this through?” 

nahuseresh scowls but tucks the cuffs away, wrapping his hand around eugenides’ elbow. he jerks him towards the car none too gently. gen bangs his head on the door and swears, rubbing at it with his hand. 

“i could sue you for that. police brutality.” 

“sure, eddis,” nahuseresh says smoothly. gen winces. 

“that’s my cousin, not me.” 

“he’s the only one who can be addressed by your last name?” 

“she,” gen corrects. “and yeah.” 

“doesn’t seem fair.” 

“that’s family, i guess.” 

nahuseresh just grunts, making eye contact in the mirror. eugenides keeps his face as neutral as possible. the ride to the police station is quiet; neither of them speak after the first conversation. eugenides tips his head against the headrest and watches the city lights slide by. 

 

“do you ever stop working?” the officer on duty asks when the two come in, looking vaguely annoyed. nahuseresh just smiles a tight smile. 

“not when there are criminals to be caught.” 

“i haven’t done anything wrong,” eugenides says, mostly to himself, slouching with his hand in his pocket. the two ignore him. 

“you’re worse than she is,” the officer grumbles and waves them through. nahuseresh settles a hand on eugenides’ neck and leads him to an interview room, pointing to the chair. 

“sit.”

“don’t i get a phone call?” 

“you’re not under arrest, you’re just here for questioning.” 

eugenides leans back in the chair and crosses his ankles in front of him, stretching his legs out long. “still. i think i’d like to call my lawyer.” 

“why would you need a lawyer if you haven’t done anything wrong?” 

there’s a stain on the table, probably coffee. gen thumbs at it for a moment before shrugging. “i’ve learned that it’s always good to have a lawyer around when dealing with law enforcement. so, if you don’t mind, i’m going to use my phone.” 

 

the man in front of him frowns, grey eyebrows smushing together over his face. gen doesn’t shrink back in his chair but he feels like it. he takes a drink of water from the nearly-empty cup instead. 

“what have you gotten yourself into this time,” the man says flatly. 

“that’s just it. i haven’t _done_ anything.” 

“we have reason to believe your client was part of a plot to steal valuable jewels and intel from a company in new york,” nahuseresh says, just as calmly. “so we’ve brought him in for questioning.” eugenides’ lawyer looks sideways at gen and then back at the agent. 

“do you have any evidence?” 

“we have people who put you at the scene of the crime.” 

“hypothetically it was a gala,” eugenides says around a yawn. it’s very late. “the nephew of the guy hosting it has a crush on my cousin. he gave her an invitation and she said she’d only come if i would be their chaperone. hypothetically.” 

“so it’s just a coincidence you were hypothetically there at the party when millions of dollars worth of jewelry was stolen?” 

“don’t answer that,” the lawyer says. 

“i do have an alibi.” 

“eugenides--” 

“i was being arrested,” he says and a muscle in the lawyer’s jaw twitches. “there was nothing on me. you can check the records.” 

“if you were arrested, then why aren’t you in jail right now?” 

“it was a mistake. the officer thought there was a warrant out for my arrest and he was mistaken.” 

nahuseresh back in his chair, an echo of eugenides’ earlier posture. “i don’t believe you.” 

“you don’t have to. your partner was there, she can tell you.”

nahuseresh’s face goes the tiniest bit blank. “my partner?” 

“mm. agent attolia, isn’t it?” 

the lawyer looks at eugenides sharply, steel flashing through his eyes. “eugenides eddis--” 

“i’m shutting up now,” eugenides tells him. “promise.” 

“bastard,” the man mutters under his breath, too low for nahuseresh to hear over the sound of the agent’s chair scraping across the floor. eugenides waits until he’s out to reply. 

“it’s a family trait. thanks for coming.” 

“if it keeps you out of prison, it’ll be worth it. how do you know if she--” 

“i don’t. the ball’s in her court now.” 

the man looks at him for a long time, contemplative. “do you trust her?” 

gen pulls his hand closer to his side. “she wouldn’t be here if i didn’t.” 

“what does that even mean?” 

“i’ll tell you later.” 

“will you?” 

eugenides furrows his brows, tipping his head to the side. “am i not invited for thanksgiving anymore?” 

“will you actually show up this time?” 

“the reason i wasn’t there last year was because i was _in prison._ ”

“your mother cried,” eugenides’ father says pointedly and he winces. “for hours. the turkey was burned.” 

“heaven forbid we don’t have turkey.” 

“if you land in prison because of _her_ again--” 

“i won’t,” gen says and almost believes it. 

 

nahuseresh puts him in a cell for the night, mostly because he can. his dad doesn’t fight it much, probably because he’s still angry at gen for the previous stint in prison. gen only grumbles a little bit. 

he’s exhausted and grumpy and his arm hurts so he wraps himself up in the itchy blanket, falling asleep almost instantly. 

 

there’s a crack like a gunshot and eugenides explodes awake, toppling from the narrow bed to the cold ground. he stays there for a second, stunned, before craning his neck upwards. it’s hard to see at this angle, with the light flooding in from the door— the _open_ door— and tiredness still flickering around his head. groaning, he lifts a hand to his eyes and scrubs at the grit there. 

“you didn’t have to startle me awake,” he growls. his head hurts. 

“sorry.”

he freezes for a breath before nimbly flipping himself over, scrambling to his feet so he can look at attolia in the face. “you scared me.”

her eyes narrow. “i said i was sorry.”

“i fell.”

“how embarrassing,” she says coolly and her gaze flicks down to his arm, unbidden. heat floods his the back of his neck. 

“what are you doing here?”

she moves aside, just the tiniest bit. “you’re free to go.”

“really? just like that?”

“your alibi checked out. seems like the officer on duty made a mistake. nahuseresh has been summoned back to new york. so, you’re free to go.”

“thank god,” eugenides says, thinking about his warm bed back in chicago. he stoops to pick up the tangled blanket, dropping it onto the bed. “i like your earrings.” 

one of her hands jerks, like she’s going to touch the rubies sitting in her ear and then catches herself. “thanks.” 

“i noticed them last night. when you brought me water.” 

her lips press together in a thin line for a second, smudging her lipstick. “i figured you would.” 

he nods, like this answered some sort of question. “can i use your phone to order an uber? mine’s most likely dead.” 

her mouth twitches. “no.” 

“please?” 

“you won’t need it,” she tells him and turns, out the door in a few steps. he follows her, complaining just loud enough for her to hear. she doesn’t react. 

rounding the corner, he looks at the crowded room in front of him. “ah.” eddis is scowling, her arms tightly folded in front of her. “i should’ve known he would call you.” 

“i thought we were past me bailing you out of jail,” she says and every word is clipped, sharp. he cringes. 

“it wasn’t intentional.” 

“everything’s intentional with you,” eddis mutters and hands him his belongings. “c’mon, we’ve got a flight to catch.” 

“would it help if i said i didn’t have a choice?” he asks when they’re walking out to the car. he deliberately does not look back at attolia. eddis snorts

“you? you always have a choice.” 

he sighs. “i wanted to see where he would take me. if would really go down to the station.” 

“you risked your life because you were curious?” she spits and he rolls his eyes. “for fuck’s sake, gen.”

“dad was there. i wasn’t worried.” 

“what?” 

“dad was the dealer. i came to visit him. and mom.”

“how’d that go?” 

“well, i didn’t get to see mom cause i spent the night in jail.” 

“we can swing by?” 

“we have a flight to catch,” gen says wearily. “and she won’t remember me anyway.” 

eddis nudges their shoulders together and doesn’t say anything, just directs him to the right car. it’s pretty nice. 

“the magus?” 

“nope, me,” sophos says as the door pops open. “i wasn’t going to let helen come here on her own, not with nahuseresh hanging around.” 

eddis won’t look at gen directly. gen raises an eyebrow and slides in behind her. “hmm, that’s the only reason, right?” 

neither of them answer but he can’t see their hands. he breathes out. “that was close.” 

“you need to stop putting your faith in coincidences, eugendies,” eddis tells him and there’s a faint scolding tone in her voice. “bad things are going to happen to you. don’t fuck with sounis _or_ nahuseresh.” 

“coincidences are the foundation to life.” 

“i don’t understand,” says sophos, looking between them with a confused expression. “what happened?” 

eddis raises her eyebrows, an echo of gen’s motions a few minutes earlier. “do you want to explain the last eighteen hours or should i?” eugenides waves a hand for her to go ahead. “basically, our dumbass here squirreled himself away to las vegas without telling anyone--”

“to visit family,” eugenides interrupts. “who i haven’t seen in a while.” 

“--and instead of, oh, i don’t know, going home like any _normal_ person would, he goes out gambling instead.” 

“dad wasn’t going to be home. he likes poker on saturday nights and mom’s visiting hours are over at eight. she has alzheimer's,” he tells sophos.

“as i was _saying_ , gen goes to a poker game that masquerades as a family reunion, annoys the hell out of an off-duty officer who presumably points him out to his buddy the fbi agent.” 

“nahuseresh?” sophos asks. eddis nods. 

“nahuseresh, who is also a bounty hunter for sounis, apparently. and gen just _gets in the car with him_.” 

“i knew he wasn’t going to kill me then, not with his officer buddy in full view. also there were cameras.” 

eddis is practically vibrating with rage. “how many times have we been over this? you do _not_ get into vehicles with people who admit to wanting to kill you!” 

sophos tips his head to the side. “is this something that’s happened more than once?” 

eugenides shrugs. “my self-preservation skills were less, ah, developed when i was younger. but that’s how i met the magus, so.” 

“nahuseresh tries to pin him down for the robbery at the gala, but gen throws poor costis under the bus and says he made a mistake--”

“costis knew it was coming, eventually. we talked about it.” 

“--and then, instead of shutting up and letting his father, the world-class lawyer, deal with everything, he throws all his cards on _attolia_ of all people to keep him from being arrested. or _worse,_ if sounis gets a hold of him.” 

“i like to live on the dangerous side,” eugenides says and sophos gapes at him. “i figured she’d probably be willing to help.” 

“you-- she _shot off your hand,_ ” eddis says, outraged. 

gen shrugs again. “we have a history.” 

“yeah, a history where she sent you to prison for doing the _exact same thing._ ” 

“she was wearing ruby earrings,” he says, matter-of-factly. “so i knew i could trust her. she wasn’t wearing ruby earrings last time.” 

sophos and eddis exchange baffled looks but eugenides doesn’t bother answering their unspoken questions. he leans his head against the door instead, closing his eyes and drifting off as their car sped towards the airport. 

 

the team was still there when the three of them roll in, rumpled and exhausted. they all watch eugenides slouch into the room with varying degrees of disapproval. 

“no arrest warrant?” aris asks and gen shakes his head. 

“none, thanks to you.” aris looks satisfied, high-fiving kamet. “sorry about your job, costis.” 

“it’s just a probation. i wanted a break, anyway.” 

kamet rolls his eyes, along with boagus and aulus. the magus looks at them critically. 

“you smell horrible.” 

“i spent the night in a _jail,_ ” eugenides says and the magus waves it away with a hand. 

“you have a guest, but i’ll tell her that you would need to shower first.”

eugenides frowns. “a guest?” 

“mmhm, she’s in the parlour.” 

gen’s moving before the magus finishes talking, crossing to the other side of the foyer and disappearing through a door. 

she’s sitting in a chair facing away from him and towards the window. the back is tall and all he can see of her is the top of her head peeking over the embroidery. 

“how’d you get here so fast?” 

attolia shifts, standing so she can look at him directly. “i had an earlier flight.” 

“why’d you have a flight at all?”

she glances over his shoulder to the room he just left, a tiny crinkle appearing on her forehead. “i talked to costis.”

he plays dumb. “costis?”

“my loyal lieutenant that you corrupted? the one who’s standing behind you and pretending not to be listening?”

eugenides glances back to see the tail end of costis, kamet, and sophos disappearing. eddis is still there, face like she swallowed a lemon. 

“oh yes. that costis. so you talked to him and he convinced you to get a flight to this house?”

“sounis was embezzling money.”

“i know that. he was also poisoning water in a few places, and maybe causing cancer.”

“how’d you find that out?”

“shared a cell with his former personal assistant.” 

attolia raises her eyebrow. “and you believed him?”

“we did some intel before we went to the gala, but… yeah.”

“you could’ve just called me.”

he cocks his head to the side and gives her a look. “could i have? would you have answered?” she doesn’t reply but there’s a touch of pink to her cheeks. “and pardon my distrust of the authorities, considering our history.”

“you don’t trust me,” she says and he jerks a shoulder. 

“again, considering our history.”

“i’m a cop. you’re a thief. i wasn’t going to let that slide.”

“oh, i got that loud and clear,” he replies and it’s just the tiniest bit bitter. her cheeks darken. “why are you here, then?”

“i visited you,” attolia says suddenly and he goes still. “when you were in the hospital.”

he smiles, tight, and tucks his arm inside his pocket. “did you flash your shiny police badge at them?” 

she shakes her head. “i told them i was your wife.” 

“ah. well. i didn’t realise you thought of yourself like that still.” 

“you haven’t signed the divorce papers.” 

he thumbs over a loose thread on his sleeve, rolling it under his finger. “i haven’t received the papers yet.” 

“i sent them three years ago.” 

“mail’s very difficult to come by in prison,” he replies and glances up at her. she’s staring at him with a strange expression, half amusement and half dread. her gaze flicks down his body to where his arm’s pushed into his jacket. her face twists in pain. 

“what’s wrong?” 

“i shot you.” 

“you did.” 

“you lost your hand.” 

“i did.” 

“i—” she stops herself, pressing her lips together again like she’s blocking the words from coming out. “this was a bad idea. i shouldn’t have come.”

she takes a step towards him, towards the door, and he looks at her for a long moment. her hair is untidy, dark against her pale skin, and there’s pink in her cheeks. she looks young, even though she’s older than him and older than the irene he fell in love with, and something in him twists. 

“why _did_ you come.”

“because costis—”

“no, irene. tell me the truth.”

she’s not looking at him, her face blankly staring ahead. she takes two steps past him and he thinks she’s leaving when the door slams shut. 

but she’s still there, her back against the heavy oak and her teeth worrying her bottom lip. he mimics her posture, leans against the chair behind him and tries not to jump out of his skin. 

“do you still have those divorce papers?”

“i—” he thinks about lying but something stops him. “yeah.”

she nods, her chin dipping down in a nod that would look jerky if it wasn’t so graceful. “good. rip them up.”

he blinks at her. “what?”

she goes red and her hand jumps to her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “i mean. if you want to sign them you can, but i don’t want you to. anymore.”

“i… don’t think i understand.”

“honestly, eugenides,” she says, exasperated. “i don’t want to divorce you, how is that hard to understand?”

“but why?”

“because i love you, you _idiot_.”

there’s another one of their long silences. she fidgets with the hem of her blouse and doesn’t quite look at him. when he laughs, she jumps. he’s laughing like mad, his hand pressed to his mouth to stifle the noise. she flushes again. 

“i’m just going to go—” she mutters, tucking her chin down and moving off the door. eugenides snags her arm before she can storm off and draws her close, curling his arm around her waist so she can’t escape. dropping his head onto her shoulder, he laughs and she stiffly waits for him to finish. 

“my darling wife,” he says in between gasps, when he finally stops enough to catch his breath, “if i had known that all it would take to get you back was for you to shoot off my hand, i would’ve done it a long time ago.”

“really,” she says coolly. he shrugs, his mouth tugging down into a pout. 

“no, probably not,” he admits. “but it’s a nice consolation.”

“oh, i’m a consolation now?”

he rolls his eyes. “you know that’s not what i meant.” 

she’s so close, close enough for them to bump noses if they turn too fast. he’s still got his arm around her, his hand drifting up to brush away hair from her cheek. her breath hitches and she’s kissing him, tipping forward and fitting her mouth against his, both of her hands curled in the front of his shirt. 

they stay like that for a while, drinking each other in like water after a drought, before she breaks away and touches her forehead to his. 

“hi,” he says, a little nonsensically. she wrinkles her nose. 

“i missed you. that’s the reason i’m here,” she tells him softly. 

“yeah, i figured that.”

“i’m sorry for hurting you.”

he kisses her again, a brief peck. “i’m sorry too. we’ll have to get better at not doing that, yeah?”

she nods and he smiles, long and slow. 

“what are the chances everyone is listening?” she asks after a second and he snorts, leaning away to peer at the door. 

“oh, extremely high.”

“mm, that’s what i was worried about.”

“don’t worry. they’ll love you. costis is already ready to die for you.”

“eddis looks like she wants to kill me.”

gen shrugs. “that’s just her face. you get used to it.”

she laughs. he kisses her again, like he can’t stop himself, and chuckles too. it’s a warm sound. 

“c’mon,” he says. “let’s go meet everyone.”

 

it takes a while, but sounis and his empire gets cut down, and with them nahuseresh. no amount of money can save them from the evidence upon damning evidence that gets sent to the press, the authorities, anyone who’ll listen. they ruin him and sophos is finally free. 

 

“why did you change your mind?” eddis asks attolia later, when they’re all at dinner. it’s supposed to be quiet, but everyone hears anyway. eugenides smiles to himself as he looks down at his plate.

“am i not allowed to change my mind?” attolia asks. her voice is still, as stiff as her back, and she’s sipping at a glass of red wine. eugenides loves her so fucking much. 

“pardon me if i find it hard to believe,” eddis says dryly, “considering you shot him a few months ago.” 

“elaborate foreplay,” eugenides mumbles and costis chokes on his bite of chicken, turning red. attolia kicks him in the leg. 

“well, he had that coming,” she says, calm. “i told him i’d shoot him if he kissed me.” 

eddis’ eyebrows rocket up her forehead. “you did _what,_ eugenides?” 

“is kissing not allowed?” 

“it depends on when the kissing happened.” 

eugenides doesn’t answer, sticks his fork in his mouth so he can’t talk. 

“it was at the gala,” she says. “and also, in the parlor.” 

“you kissed-- _that’s_ why you were late to the office? god fucking dammit, eugenides eddis.” 

attolia pauses, swivels to glare at him. “so you _did_ steal something! i knew it!” 

“i didn’t do anything wrong, and i didn’t steal the jewelry,” eugenides says primly. “that was all sophos and costis. and pol. and kamet.” he shrugs.

“what? but how--?” 

“pol unlocked the cases, sophos nicked them, costis slipped them into his pocket and carried them out with the police detail.” 

attolia shuts her eyes, slumping against the back of the chair. “that’s-- oh my god. that’s annoyingly simple.” 

“mmm, isn’t it? almost like a genius planned it.” she cracks an eye to look at him and he winks. everyone else around the table groans. 

“i’m going to kill you next time,” she tells him sincerely and he laughs, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “i mean it. i’m going to poison your wine when you’re not looking.” 

“i’ll behave.” he kisses her cheek again, close to her ear and drops his voice. “i like your earrings.” 

she turns her head to smile at him, warm and lovely. “do you? a thief gave them to me for our wedding day.” 

“what a lucky girl.” 

“what a lucky thief.” 

 

they’d met in the darkness. he’d tugged her out of bed to sit on the roof under the stars, curled up in a blanket and each other. they’d do this hundreds of times in the future, have done it hundreds of times before. 

but this time is different. 

“marry me?” he’d said in the hush of darkness, half muffled against her hair. she had wound their fingers together and brushed them against her lips. 

“okay.” 

and so she did. 

**Author's Note:**

> writing twists is harder than i thought, especially when the twists are centered around things i don't understand lollll
> 
> anyway come visit me @bigbrotherlouis on tumblr if you want to talk about queen's thief, harry potter, one direction, or dc superheroes. thanks for reading!!!


End file.
